


The Weight of the World

by AppleTeeth



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, eventual pairing, warning: angst, warning: torture scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleTeeth/pseuds/AppleTeeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is not happy Bruce has decided to leave after the Battle of New York, so he does everything he can to make sure he is safe. Unfortunately, Bruce has enemies still searching for him, and they have plans of their own...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Keep a Light on Those You Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [therestisdetail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/therestisdetail/gifts).



The last time Tony had seen Bruce, it was at Port Authority, the following day after they had saved the world. The station was holding up well, having only just removed the giant flying whale monster from right outside, and most of the buses were running as usual. Tony parked outside on the taxi rank, not even caring if he was going to get a fine. He knew how to remove a parking clamp in under ten seconds.  
  
“All right, Brucey, you got everything? Your phone? Change of underwear? A quarter so you can call me when you get there?”  
  
Bruce grinned and shook his head sadly. “Yes, mom.”  
  
“Good.”   
  
Tony had packed Bruce’s bag not just with new clothes and a wad of cash. It also included a state of the art laptop so he could continue his research and keep an eye on certain people who liked to follow him. A cell phone that worked pretty much anywhere on the planet (the same design as the one in Tony’s suit). And enough dehydrated food to make sure Bruce didn’t eat out of trash cans any time soon.   
  
“Which bus are you getting?”  
  
Bruce shrugged. “Next one available. I usually work on the instinct that if I don’t know where I’m going, then Ross doesn’t either.”  
  
“You think he’ll dare come after you when we’ve got your back?”  
  
And that was a much bigger question than Tony would ever admit. Because he had said enough times that Bruce didn’t have to go, that he would do everything to protect him, that he had a family now and wasn’t that worth staying for?  
  
“I guarantee it,” he said, not angrily, but with a sad acceptance. Like a kid who long learnt his dad would hit him no matter what he did.   
  
“Well then, call me. Often. I might even pick up every once in awhile.”  
  
“You’ve got the gamma-tracer. Just do a scan and you’ll know where to pick me up next time the world goes to shit.”  
  
“I will do that,” Tony said. They were silent as he tried to think of what else to say. He settled for pounding Bruce on the back in a one-armed hug. “Let me know how life is treating you.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
Bruce picked up his bag and walked into the terminal. And because he was an expert at it, Tony soon lost him in the crowd of people, all heading off to different parts of the country.  
  
  
  
 _Four months later  
Pretoria, South Africa_  
  
The laptop was beeping angrily. It had never done that before. Bruce had been showering after a long shift, hoping to rustle up something quick to eat before he went to sleep. But as he switched off the shower and walked into the living-room come kitchen come sleeping area, the laptop Tony had had bought him was chirruping as if someone was trying to sneak it out of a store.  
  
Rubbing his hair with a towel, he sat down and looked at the screen.  
  
In big red letters it read, _ ENEMY ALERT ._  
  
“What the hell...?” he murmured, and immediately the screen changed.   
_  
ATTENTION, DR BANNER. THIS IS AN AUTOMATIC SENSOR WARNING. SCANS OF THE AREA INDICATE MILITARY FORCES ARE MOVING TOWARDS YOU. THEY ARE ARMED AND THEY HAVE BEEN ORDERED TO SHOOT TO KILL._  
  
“What?” he yelled.   
  
_MY ADVICE WOULD BE TO HEAD INTO A POPULATED AREA. DO NOT CARRY ANY ID._  
  
“Populated? No way, they could get hurt.”  
 _  
THEIR INTENT IS TO PREVENT DAMAGE AND WITNESSES DURING THE OPERATION. STAY IN A POPULATED AREA AND DO NOTHING SUSPICIOUS._  
  
“Easier said than done,” Bruce muttered. “And you are...?”  
  
 _I AM AN AUTOMATIC PROGRAMME CREATED BY TONY STARK TO PROTECT YOU FROM ENEMIES._  
  
“So that’s why I wasn’t allowed to pick out my own laptop on our shopping trip,” he said thoughtfully. “Remind me to thank him if I survive this. How long have I got before they get here?”  
  
 _THEY MOVE IN AT 20:00 HOURS._  
  
“Fifteen minutes, great.”  
  
When he ran back to the computer, having dressed and shoved everything worth saving into a rucksack, the computer read,  
  
 _THIRTEEN MINUTES._  
  
He grabbed the laptop, shoved it in his bag, put on a baseball cap, pulled up his hoodie and left the small apartment for the last time.  
  
The city had a number of places he could hide, but his first instinct was somewhere impossibly crowded. Somewhere you knew people would be staying put and any interruption would be broadcast.  
  
He got a taxi to Loftus Versfeld Stadium, and the driver conversed with him excitedly about the match taking place. Bruce had never watched a game of rugby in his life, but his job was to act normal so he nodded along with enthusiasm and pretended he supported the local team the Blue Bulls, same as the driver. When he got out, he found a ticket scalp easily and paid a far too high price just to get through the barriers.   
  
He pulled out his phone, thinking maybe he needed to call someone just to alert them to the problem, and saw his phone had the same alert as his laptop did. He slipped into a ‘staff only’ area, crouching behind a box of supplies and took out his phone again.  
  
“Okay, I’m in a populated area. Now what?”  
  
 _I SUGGEST YOU JOIN THEM FOR THE GAME. CHEER ALONG. LOOK LIKE YOU KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING ON THE FIELD. DO NOT SNEAK INTO RESTRICTED AREAS AND ASK STUPID QUESTIONS._  
  
He looked at his phone in indignation. Did Tony design it to be this snarky?  
  
“Okay, fine. But what about when the game is over?”  
 _  
GO TO A BAR. PRETEND TO DRINK WITH THE REST OF THE LOCALS AND CELEBRATE. THE LOCAL TEAM HAS A 79% CHANCE OF WINNING. THE ODDS ARE YOU WILL BLEND IN WELL._  
  
“This seems very short term,” he said irritably. There was a pause.  
  
 _FOR NOW, YES. GOOD LUCK, DR BANNER._  
  
He put his phone away, slipped back out of the restricted area and went to buy a Blue Bulls scarf.  
  
It was oddly easy following on with the rest of the crowd. He looked disappointed and shouted when everyone else did, he cheered along when commanded, he even joined in with the songs once he got to understand the words. Only once did he start whooping at the wrong point, but a guy next to him laughed and slapped him on the back, and Bruce understood enough Afrikaans to catch the word, “Enthusiasm”. It was starting to feel like Bruce was back at school, before he got expelled, where he was forced to give a crap about the football team just so he didn’t get the shit kicked out of him by the jocks.  
  
Every now and then he glanced at his phone, which he figured was okay so long as he didn’t talk at it, but there were no further communications.   
  
The game finished as the computer predicted and everyone slowly made their way out of the stadium to continue the party at the local bars. Bruce followed a group of guys who looked drunk but not drunk enough to try to pick a fight with him if he stayed in their company.   
  
He checked his phone at the bar as he ordered the biggest pitcher of beer on sale to please his new friends. It simply read,  _KEEP IT UP_.  
  
  
  
“Sir, he is currently at the bar with a group of supporters. He is buying them drinks.”  
  
“Great, okay,” Tony said. “Tell him to keep it up.”  
  
He was halfway to South Africa, flying at full speed in his Iron Man suit, not caring which airspace he was flying over or which air forces he was pissing off. He had decided to fly over when he saw just how many soldiers were positioned. It was clear they didn’t care if they did cause a situation. Either they were willing to cause a scene and patch it up with the local authorities later, or much worse, they knew Bruce was getting help from somewhere.  
  
Tony carried on at full pelt, awaiting updates from JARVIS.  
  
  
  
It turned out the bar was willing to stay open for as long as people wanted to keep drinking. Bruce was nursing his beer, getting up to buy more regularly and staying on good terms with the increasingly drunk guys. His Afrikaans wasn’t great but he managed as much as he needed to when he was pretending to be hammered.   
  
They all agreed they would go to a club next, and Bruce checked his phone immediately in case the computer programme thought it was a bad idea.  
  
 _GO WITH THEM. KEEP WITH THE GROUP._  
  
He almost nodded at the phone but managed to stop himself in time. They all finished their drinks but refused to leave until Bruce had downed his. Knowing alcohol was probably a bad idea in his condition but not willing to give up the game, he did as instructed. Slapping him on the back, they walked out into the street.   
  
And that was when all hell broke lose.  
  
Three of the guys walking ahead fell down to the ground like dropped marionette dolls. Bruce stopped and turned to run, but there was a line of soldiers and they all commanded him to freeze.   
  
He ran down an alleyway and heard gunshots follow him. He pulled out his phone for any help but it just said,  RUN.  
  
“I’m fucking doing that!” he gasped. He pocketed his phone just as he jumped to vault over a fence. There were heavy footsteps right behind him and he ducked as they opened fire. He ran out into a street and tried to find somewhere to go, or at least hide for a time.  
  
He was panting heavily. He knew he hadn’t been exercising as vigorously as he used to, but he felt more out of shape than in a long time. He clutched at his chest as he carried on, trying to stay in the shadows, his phone giving him no further instructions.  
  
“FREEZE!” a soldier screamed at him and he turned to run back where he had come from. His heart rate was above any safe level, he was panicked and he was definitely stressed. He needed to stop so he could calm down and prevent something much worse happening.  
  
And he was slowing down. His legs felt numb and just as he turned another corner, his right knee collapsed under him. Struggling to get back up, his arms had become just as weak and he couldn’t catch his breath for a moment.   
  
A heavy boot landed on his back. He collapsed to the ground, grunting in pain.  
  
“That was easier than I thought,” a deep, amused voice said somewhere far above him. Managing to lift his head enough just to see an army uniform decorated with many medals, he immediately knew who it was.   
  
General Ross knelt down to look Bruce in the eye. Bruce was almost completely paralysed now and all he could do was stare in horror as a stiff collar was snapped around his neck.  
  
The General pressed a button on the collar and Bruce felt a searing pain spread across his body before everything went dark.  
  
  
  
Tony landed only ten minutes later and immediately he knew he was too late. The soldiers had already cleared out, every vehicle disappearing off his radars. He found Bruce’s backpack and phone blown to pieces, the remnants scattered by the side of the road.   
  
“JARVIS, find them. Find  _him_.”  
  
“They have just jammed all communication in the area. It will take hours to filter through.”  
  
“What about his gamma-trace?”  
  
“Undetectable, sir.”  
  
Having no idea what else to do, he took off and flew into the sky, looking for anything. He was there for hours, getting more and more desperate. By the time he gave up the search, the sun was rising, and Bruce was already a thousand miles away.


	2. Every Little Piece In Your Life Will Add Up To One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony leads the search, trying to find General Ross and where he is keeping Bruce...

_Four weeks later_  
  
“Are you telling me you’ve still got nothing?” Tony asked angrily.  
  
“That’s what I’m telling you,” Director Fury said patiently.   
  
They were gathered in the helicarrier - somewhere they had got used to visiting almost daily since Bruce had been taken. Tony particularly had been harassing anyone and everyone for updates, and whilst S.H.I.E.L.D. were just as committed to getting Dr Banner back from Ross, they were having no more luck than Tony was.  
  
“Aren’t you supposed to have a way of tracing him even when he doesn’t want to be found? You were spying on him enough before he joined the Avengers,” Tony demanded.  
  
“I’ve told you, we are doing everything and more to find him. We’ve gone through every military file on the planet and there is no word of the Hulk, of Bruce, or any kind of containment for either. Ross doesn’t want to release even a shred of information because he knows we will try to get him back.”  
  
“Would there be any base you don’t know about?” Clint asked.  
  
“Possibly. The Hulk Mission has been very closely guarded. None of my people were in it because, well, we didn’t think it would happen now that the Hulk was out in the open as part of my team.”  
  
“What a fucking great plan that was,” Tony said irritably.   
  
“Mr Stark, would you like to give me any insight I’m missing in order to get him back? Because I would love to hear it.”  
  
The only insight Tony could think of involved punching Fury in his good eye, but he refrained. He needed him, as much as he loathed to admit it.   
  
“Why can’t you find him from his gamma-signal like before?” Steve asked.   
  
“Because wherever he is they are making sure we can’t trace it, either using drugs or--” He stopped and took a breath. “Or he’s already dead.”  
  
With those words, the words Fury so rarely used because he knew it made the group go crazy, Tony was ready to suit up and start flying once again, hitting all the army bases the military didn’t think he - or any other civilian - would know about. At that moment, Agent Hill walked into the room, looking anxious.  
  
“Sir, we’ve found it. General Ross sent out an encrypted message two days ago from this location.”  
  
Director Fury read the message, his face unreadable. Tony grabbed the message before it was offered to him and immediately swore.  
  
 _The monster is responding well. No incidents to report._  
  
  
  
 _One week later_  
  
Someone was approaching. He had become so used to hearing that muffled click at the far end of the room he didn’t look up. He kept staring at the mark on the floor; a mark that had been there since he had arrived. Three weeks? Four? Maybe more than a month? If there was any way of being able to track time, he didn’t want it.   
  
The mark was no more than a scuff of someone’s shoe, a thin curve of black on the polished floor, maybe when they were turning sharply, maybe when they stumbled, maybe when they were bored and kicked at the ground.  Maybe he had caused it when they were bringing him in. It fascinated him, because it was the only point of interest to fix his gaze on.  
  
“Good afternoon, Bruce.”  
  
He didn’t look up and the man studying him didn’t expect him to. Maybe they figured he was so pumped full of drugs he had trouble figuring out reality, or maybe they thought he had gone mad by now. Neither were the case - Bruce just saw no reason in humouring them. The routine was the same. Extract samples. Observe his behaviour. Recommend they up his dosage because he sneezed. They were more scared of him than he could possibly be of them, and seeing as he was being held by a secret branch of the military set on creating an army of monsters, that was saying something.  
  
“How are we feeling today?”  
  
“Fine,” he said, keeping his eyes on the mark. Sometimes he thought he saw images in it, but concluded long ago that it was just boredom getting to him. He had never been a fan of inkblots as a means of study.  
  
“I see.”  
  
His captor walked behind him and drew out blood from the same vein as always, the IV permanently in his skin except to be changed in case of infection. He was completely sedated whenever they did this. They were wary of hurting him. He had got used to the tube in the back of his hand, much like he had got used to the restraints. After a while the body adapts to its environment.   
  
“I’ll bring you your lunch in an hour or so.”  
  
He pulled back Bruce’s eyelids one at a time and flashed a light to observe the pupillary response. He then checked the restraints at various points, made sure his limbs still had good circulation and measured various parts of his body to see if there had been any significant weight gain or loss.   
  
Bruce knew he could have counted how many times this had happened in order to know how long he had been incarcerated, but at first the drugs wrecked havoc on his mind and he would pass out and never know how long he had been unconscious. Sometimes, when he had said anything more than one word answers, they loaded him with enough drugs to kill a baby elephant. For all he knew, there might have been times when he was unconscious for a week.  
  
The most important thing they did was keep him calm, and they weren’t afraid to use whatever it took to achieve it.  
  
They fed him two times a day with thick tubing inserted down his throat, his mouth jammed open with blocks at the back of his teeth. The first time they did this Bruce was in enough distress to think the Hulk would emerge. But the drugs did their job and he only twitched a little, struggling against the impossible restraints until he realised it was futile. He wondered why they didn’t just keep it in, or use any number of easier means. He had had to feed patients who were unable to do it themselves plenty of times and this was by far the most invasive. The answer he came to the most was that this was their chance to test the effectiveness of the various drugs. They wanted him to talk, albeit without elaboration, over how he was feeling. They studied the way he answered and reacted, his tone, his pitch. Every little thing he did was to be observed and treated as hostile if different from the day before.  
  
“See you later, Bruce,” his captor said and he walked towards the exit of the highly equipped prison. Bruce didn’t even know his name and yet he had come to visit him every single day. He doubted he would be able to pick him out of a lineup and he was the only human contact he had any more.   
  
He had given up thinking someone would come for him a long time ago. There were enough superheroes in the world and one unreliable rage monster would never be enough to take on such a vast operation. Having to constantly watch out for people either wanting to kill or capture you had to be such a chore on your teammates. He was used to figuring ways out of his problems alone and, as he couldn’t find a solution, he accepted he would be there for the foreseeable future.  
  
  
  
“Level six clearance authorised. Welcome, Mr Stark,” the pleasant-sounding computer said as the gates swung open to let them in.  
  
“How did you get us level six clearance?” Steve asked curiously.  
  
“Made a few donations to the right people, spoke to some old friends, hacked into the system just before we arrived...”  
  
“And we’re to be expected?”  
  
Tony shrugged. “Sure, Cap.”  
  
“Because if there’s one thing that hasn’t changed since my day, is that the military will always check on any unexpected visitors into their secret facilities.”  
  
“It’s a surprise inspection. Just look like you know where you’re going and stay calm.”  
  
Steve wasn’t so sure about Tony’s plan to keep walking into the complex with confidence, and he nearly turned back as three guards started to walk very closely behind them, guns raised.  
  
“Halt!” they ordered and Tony sighed, turning back and raising his hands in surrender. Steve stopped short of grabbing his shield to start fighting. Following Tony’s lead was disconcerting at the best of times, let alone in a situation like this.  
  
They waited, knowing who was coming to greet them and possibly order the guards to open fire. They knew, because they had been tracking him down since Bruce’s disappearance.  
  
General Ross walked into the entrance hall and saw the two men that all eyes and cameras were focusing on.   
  
“How far did you think you’d get, Stark?”  
  
Tony cocked his head to one side. “At least the elevators. Your boys didn’t look that bright.” He pulled out his phone and started tapping. “So Bruce is in the centre of this place, I take it? Wow, a whole base just for him. I keep telling him he’s more popular than he thinks.”  
  
“The Hulk is U.S. military property, and this entire facility has been equipped for containing that property. You wouldn’t even get through the first of the eight steel containers it is currently being held in.”  
  
“What about Bruce Banner?” Steve said angrily. “He’s not military property.”  
  
“Well sadly the two can’t be separated,” Ross said without looking at all sorry. In fact, his moustache twitched as the corners of his mouth turned upwards. “So we have to contain both.”  
  
“So why are my readings of your facility saying that you are not only taking DNA samples of our friend, but also you’re planning on testing it on other people?” Tony asked.  
  
“Coffee break rumours,” Ross replied. “People think we do lots of things in here. The best we’re doing is spending millions of taxpayers’ money to ensure a psychotic monster doesn’t hurt anyone.”  
  
“And by the looks of the prison itself...” he stopped, and his face twisted. He looked aghast, like someone had just spat in his face.  
  
“Tony, what? What are they doing?” Steve asked, trying to look at the phone too. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at at first, but then he made out the shape of a man kneeling down, his head bowed from the weight of a steel collar around his neck, his arms joined in metal restraints behind his back, every limb chained down to the steel floor. It took him a moment to realise this was his military who were doing this and not some arch enemy he was sworn to fight.   
  
“Bit of an overkill, don’t you think?” Tony finally asked the general.  
  
“Nothing is overkill for that thing.”  
  
It looked like, to Steve, that if Tony had his Iron Man suit on, he might have blasted Ross right out of the way and gone to get Banner back alone. To be honest, Steve wouldn’t have stopped him. He felt ready to do the same.  
  
Instead, Tony put his phone away and casually saluted their target.  
  
“We’ll be back.”  
  
  
  
The door clicked open once more. Bruce was surprised he was being fed so soon after being examined, but the man walked back in with more people. And Ross.  
  
It was funny. No matter how many times he saw the general, he still felt a lurch of pure fear deep down in the pit of his stomach. Even though he had now been captured, he still felt a primal instinct to run away from him.   
  
“Good afternoon, Banner. We’ve got good news.”  
  
Bruce tried not to look at him. He hated how scared that old man made him. It reminded him of an old monster from his childhood; another old man who liked to torment him. He hadn’t thought about his father in years, but Ross made it all come flooding back.  
  
“I’ve decided we’ve been treating you too well in here. Giving you good meals, letting you have a bit of scenery, keeping you awake. It’s too good for you. I didn’t spend all these years just to babysit a monster.”  
  
Bruce gasped as he felt a syringe penetrate his neck. His arms were unlocked from behind his back before being pulled up and away from his body. They hadn’t moved for so long and the sudden movement was agony. They were locked into metal reinforcements and the same were done to his legs so he was held upright, spread-eagled. He then felt a searing pain in various points up his spine and all he could do was shut his eyes.  
  
Already whatever had been injected was working because he couldn’t so much as cry out. It felt like he was swimming, like he was being held underwater except he was being forced to breathe deeply and slowly. He knew exactly what they had done to him - his heart rate wouldn’t change, no matter what they did to him.   
  
The last thing he saw, before the second needle was inserted to knock him out, was Ross enjoying every second of this security upgrade.  
  
  
  
Back at Stark Towers, a debate was raging on. There was no doubt the mission was going to be a tough one. Not only did they have to successfully break into possibly the most advanced military base in the world and rescue their friend, there was no way of them not looking like the bad guys.  
  
“Why the fuck should we care?” Tony said as that particular concern was raised, for possibly the fifth time.  
  
“Because we’re breaking into US Government property to let loose a monster,” Clint said.  
  
“Whose side are you--”  
  
“That’s how it will be portrayed,” he continued. “No matter how S.H.I.E.L.D. try to spin it. No matter what you say.”  
  
“People are aware that he saved the world, right?”  
  
“Yes, but people are scared too. You saw the news, despite how hard you tried to hide it from Bruce. There were debates. Politicians making speeches. Even those who thought the Hulk was a hero still wanted him contained in some way.”  
  
“He  is contained. He’s contained in Bruce,” Tony said, starting to sound desperate.  
  
Steve stood up and put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “We know, but he’s right. We’ve got to do this carefully.”  
  
“I agree,” Natasha said, though it sounded like she didn’t want to.  
  
“Thor, you can relate,” Tony said, turning to the Asgardian. “You’re constantly trying to prove your lunatic of a brother is a cuddly bunny. How’s that going?”  
  
Thor seemed angry at first, but then he simply walked over to Tony and patted him on the shoulder, causing his knees to buckle.  
  
“Bruce is a dear friend to all of us, and I agree this is a task worth fighting for. But there is more to winning a battle than the battle itself.”  
  
“He’s right,” Steve said. “I remember when we declared war back in ‘41. So many people didn’t want us out there, risking our lives for places they’d never been to. Half of the battle of WWII was proving to the American people it was a war worth fighting for.”  
  
And then it hit Tony. It hit him like a big green guy made of pure muscle roaring in his face to wake him up.   
  
“We need to do a press conference. Now.”


	3. Every Little Piece In Your Life, Will It Mean Something To Someone?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A campaign to win hearts and minds begins, and it is starting to piss General Ross off. Meanwhile, Bruce is running out of time...

General Ross was used to having a reputation for being obsessed with the Hulk. He had practically begged his superiors to let him be the one to finish the job, to find that pipsqueak Banner and bring him in. The sheer joy he felt when he saw Banner fall in the street, the drugs having been perfectly timed so he would think he would be able to escape before he started to get tired. He still relished being the one to put that collar on him; Bruce’s eyes barely focused but silently screaming all the same.   
  
Now he was watching Banner on the security monitors, showing every angle of the man as he hung suspended from the ceiling, unconscious and harmless. Monitors that recorded every aspect of his vitals to warn of any signs of anger or taking control hummed and beeped alongside the monitor. They were fun to watch. There had been no change since they had upped security.  
  
Yes, Ross could never deny he was obsessed with the Hulk.   
  
“General Ross,” an officer said hastily as he walked into the control room. “I need to show you something.”  
  
“This had better be important,” he said, turning from the monitor to the tablet the officer was holding. The officer hit play and it showed a news report.  
  
“...many have speculated over Dr Banner’s whereabouts, with some countries expressing fear he has been seeking refuge within their borders, but now it seems he has gone missing, even from his teammates.”  
  
The image of the female news anchor was replaced with a room of reporters, all pointing microphones and cameras at the table of people. They were instantly recognisable.  
  
“Mr Stark, do you have any idea when he disappeared?”  
  
“Uh, we believe around five weeks ago. He was last seen in South Africa, working at a local hospital. He hasn’t been in contact since.”  
  
“And why do you suspect foul play?”  
  
“Because between me and S.H.I.E.L.D, we always manage to find him, even if he doesn’t want to be found.”  
  
“What the hell is Stark doing?” General Ross asked the officer, who didn’t respond.  
  
“And why should the public care if the monster has disappeared?”  
  
Clint jumped in for that question, “Uh, Dr Banner is our teammate. In case you didn’t notice, his help in the Battle for New York turned the course. We wouldn’t have succeeded without him. If he’s missing it could mean someone has taken him.”  
  
“And the implications of that are grave,” Thor said.   
  
“We are asking people, if they know any information, to come to us and tell us what they know,” Steve said in his reassuring voice. “For the good of the country, we want our friend back.”  
  
“Clever...” Ross said. “Very clever. They want people on their side. They want to waltz right in here and get him back with the country’s support.”  
  
He grabbed the phone and barked, “Get me Jamerson.”  
  
  
  
 _GOOD RIDDANCE - THE MONSTER IS GONE_  
  
The headline was massive and shocking, but the picture underneath was worse. The shot of the Hulk looked like something from a horror film, his mouth wide in a roar, his hands crushing a car like a cardboard box, the ricochet of bullets bouncing off his chest like flies.   
  
“This was to be expected,” Tony said to the team, having only glanced at the front page of The Daily Bugle for half a second before dismissing it.  
  
“Where did he get that shot anyway? That wasn’t in New York,” Steve asked.  
  
“It was at the Culver University. A kid took a few pictures before the army cleared everyone out,” Natasha explained. “But this is definitely shopped to look a lot worse.”  
  
“Hmm,” Thor said. “Perhaps we should try to win over the written communications too?”  
  
“Yeah Tony, you’ve got more money than sense, we could place some ads,” Steve said.  
  
“Ads won’t cut it,” Tony said irritably. “We need more.”  
  
  
  
Betty Ross had been assured her father wouldn’t know where this was being recorded, though she doubted very much it would make a lot of difference. If her standing in front of Bruce hadn’t told General Ross exactly how she felt about him, then this would be the final nail in the coffin.  
  
“Now you worked with Dr Banner for many years, is that correct?”  
  
Betty smiled warmly at the host. “Yes. We were very close friends.”  
  
“Before the accident?”  
  
“Before and after. I did what I could to help him. Both sides of him.”  
  
“And how would you describe his,” the host paused, “ other side , as you call it? Are you suggesting they are one in the same?”  
  
“It’s hard to determine. I think they are very different people with different thoughts and feelings, but sometimes they act and talk like one another. The Hulk is mostly scared. He’s awoken from a slumber and he’s usually in danger and he is frightened. He wants to be left alone.” Betty stammered for a second. “But, but I know, and I have seen, that he is a hero too. He would fight for what is right in an instant.”  
  
“Dr Banner?”  
  
“Both Bruce and the Hulk.”  
  
  
  
“Now boys and girls, I want to ask you a serious question.”  
  
Two hundred faces beamed up at Steve, so in awe of his shield and uniform the teachers had never seen them so well behaved. He had promised them if they were good, he’d show them just what he could do with the shield. They wouldn’t say a peep if it meant missing that.  
  
“Have you ever been bullied?”  
  
They looked at him in stunned silence. After his rousing speech about heroics and bravery and the American dream, the kids weren’t not expecting that.  
  
“Come on now,” Steve said warmly. “Have you ever been teased? Been made fun of? I know I have.”  
  
A few tentative hands were raised.  
  
“You’d probably call me a liar, but when I was your age I used to get bullied every day. See, I was short and scrawny and I had a million different things wrong with me. I was an easy target, as people would say.”  
  
More hands raised now that they knew Living Legend Captain America had been in their shoes.  
  
“And it makes you feel bad, doesn’t it? You start to think maybe they’re right. And so have you ever wanted to hide away? Just hide so they can’t find you?”  
  
The kids nodded.  
  
“Well I’m afraid that is happening to a good friend of mine. Do you think that is right, boys and girls?”  
  
There was a chorus of ‘Noooooo’s across the assembly hall.  
  
“You see, one of my friends is a man called Bruce. He’s very, very clever. And he was so clever he almost managed to replicate the super-serum that made me the man I am today. But instead he became something so much better, even if he sometimes doesn’t see it.”  
  
“The Hulk!” a little kid called out. “You mean the Hulk!”  
  
“Yes, very good!” Steve beamed. “But some people don’t like the Hulk. They think he’s too big and strong and dangerous. But I don’t think so. Do you?”  
  
The kids yelled this time, “Nooooo!”  
  
“So what do we say to these bullies who want to upset Bruce and the Hulk? We say, ‘Get lost!’ don’t we?”  
  
“YEAH!”  
  
Steve had to hand it to Tony, but his deluded idea was working.  The kids were eating up his every word and they looked ready to tell everybody how much they wanted the Hulk back. No doubt Tony knew this private institute in Washington schooled children of some of the most influential people in the country.   
  
He had to admit, compared to his old USO days, this gig was a breeze.  
  
  
  
General Ross had started drinking at work. Nobody dared call him on it but they knew it had something to do with the news reports about the Hulk campaigns across the country. It seemed every idiot who had never seen the Hulk in all of its terrifying action now wanted it protecting their town. Campaigns were calling for the government to rescue it. There were things called Internet polls and trending topics and reblogs that all stated they wanted the Hulk out in the goddamn open.  
  
He was only drinking lightly then, though. He started on the heavy stuff on the day there was a call for him to come to the front gate one stormy evening.  
  
Standing before him, in full armour, were a band of Asgardian warriors.  
  
“We are here to honour both the warrior and mortal known as Banner!” Volstagg boomed. “Let us pass so we may anoint him with gifts of weapons and delicacies from our land of Asgard.”  
  
“You can get the fuck out of here,” General Ross growled at them, “before I order my people to open fire.”  
  
“You can try all you like, mortal,” Sif said angrily, holding her sword aloft. “But we will stand our ground and fight.”  
  
“Did Stark tell you to do this?” Ross barked. “Did that sonofabitch summon you? I swear to God, he will regret this...”  
  
“Nay, I told them,” Thor said loudly, descending from the sky at high speed, holding Mjölnir aloft. He landed right next to Fandral, pounding him on the back in a form of gratitude. “And they wanted to honour a true warrior.”  
  
“Well they’re not getting anywhere near the monster, so get lost!”  
  
Sif and the Warriors Three looked ready to fight, but Thor put a hand out swiftly.  
  
“Very well. But I hope this exercise shows that it is not just your realm that would like the see Dr Banner released. We of Asgard also do not approve of unlawful capture.”  
  
“Yeah yeah, get going, you freaks...” General Ross spat. He walked back into the complex as a team of scared-looking soldiers watched a group of aliens ride a lightning storm back into the sky.   
  
It was then he saw the news report on the monitors. Thor and his friends were in Central Park speaking to the press about the Hulk. The bulletin at the bottom of the screen read, “ASGARDIAN WARRIORS AIDE IN THE SEARCH FOR DR BANNER”.  
  
“Someone get me a fuckin’ scotch!”  
  
  
  
Nick Fury had not stepped in to stop their apparent publicity campaign just yet. He thought what they were doing was clever and to be honest, might actually work if they kept at it.   
  
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t ask.  
  
“Whose idea was this?”  
  
“Uh, Steve’s, originally,” Tony said automatically, not even looking up from his work bench.  
  
“I was being rhetorical. I know it was yours.”  
  
“You need to make that clearer. Try inflecting sometime. Hey, hey!” Tony looked up, waving his arms at DUM-E. “Do you know how much that prototype cost? Way more than your clumsy ass. Put it down.”  
  
The robotic arm lowered the green object onto the workbench and Fury picked it up.   
  
“Hulk action figures?” he asked, looking over the plastic doll in amusement.  
  
Tony shrugged. “Kids love them.”  
  
“Is this how you expect Ross to give Banner back? With merchandise?”  
  
“No, I expect the president to order Ross to give Banner back. The merchandise will be a thank you to everyone who helped.”  
  
Fury didn’t know what to say. He watched as Tony swatted away the robot again as he worked on carving little accessories for the toy Hulk.  
  
“This is probably the first time I’ve seen you dedicated to the well-being of someone else.”  
  
“Uh, excuse me? Are you forgetting I rode a nuke into another dimension? And I nearly died because of-- hey, no! When I want you to pass me a flat chisel, I will say. Now quit crowding me.”  
  
“And how much longer do you think it will take?”  
  
“Any day now,” Tony said.  
  
“Because my concern is how long Banner will last in there when you’re pissing Ross off this much.”  
  
The man was quiet for a moment, before he put down his tools and finally acknowledged Fury by turning to him.  
  
“I’m working as fast as I can.”  
  
“I suggest you work faster,” and Fury handed Tony a piece of paper from a classified file.  
  
 _OPERATION CLEAN SWEEP_ was typed at the top in red letters.   
  
  
  
The order was named Clean Sweep for obvious reasons, and it was called on the morning Steve was scheduled to meet the president. They were going to discuss the Hulk issue, patriot to patriot, and this was going to be the Avengers’ final push to get their friend back. The press had been talking about the historic meeting all morning, every channel speculating over what was going to be said.  
  
The team working in the lab who were there to ensure Clean Sweep was a success, had the news on in the background. They hardly paid attention to it; there was so much risk involved and after studying the monster’s blood for so long, they were all trying their best to concentrate, still not sure if it would work.   
  
But General Ross had given the order and all they could do was pray their calculations were correct.  
  
  
  
“Now this is definitely overblown.”  
  
Clint swore he saw Natasha smile as they looked out onto the lawn of the White House, a swarm of press taking their seats. Tony was working the room, moving from person to person, shaking hands, saluting high-ranking officers, making sure everyone knew what the focus of the day was going to be.  
  
“Nervous?” Clint asked Steve, who was fumbling with his shirt like he had never worn a suit before in his life.  
  
“I’d feel better if they let me wear my uniform.”  
  
“You’d clash with the flags.”  
  
Steve shot a look at Clint. “I meant my army uniform. But Tony said it might blur the message.”  
  
“What, that it’s currently the US military who have Bruce?” Natasha asked. “Yes, I can see how they might send mixed signals.”  
  
“Hey, at least Thor isn’t here. That could have made it look a whole other level of worse. Imagine Gods from another world threatening the president.”  
  
And just like that, with the image of Thor wielding his hammer to the leader of the free world, the three of them began to giggle. It had been a long time since they had laughed.   
  
“Hey, chuckles, you ready?” Tony asked. They all straightened up and tried to look serious.  
  
“Yes. Absolutely,” Steve said.  
  
“Good. You’re on in three.”  
  
Steve walked to where the Secret Service were directing him and the rest went to take their seats. Tony stopped as he heard his phone ringing, knowing for certain he had just switched it off.  
  
“JARVIS, what is it? Don’t override my phone for anything less than nuclear meltdown.”  
  
“Sir, I’ve been monitoring the activity at the military base holding Banner. An order was called this morning that I have just managed to decipher. They plan on terminating him in less than an hour’s time.”  
  
Tony hung up, trying to ignore how badly his hand was shaking. He put his phone in his pocket and grabbed his red suitcase from where he had left it (the Secret Service could insist he hand it over all they liked; it went where he went).  
  
“We’ve got to go,” Tony said, grabbing Clint and Natasha’s arms and directing them out of their seats.   
  
“Why, what happened?”  
  
“We’ve got to go to the base. They’re going to kill him.”  
  
“What? Can they even do that?”  
  
“I don’t know and I don’t want to. Either our friend dies or a very angry Hulk is about to cause some shit. Let’s  go .”  
  
“What about Steve?”  
  
“He can follow once he’s got what we want.”  
  
  
  
Bruce was certain he was dying. His body was getting better and better at fighting the drugs that were keeping him unconscious, but that in turn meant the pain was getting worse. He didn’t stay awake for long and when he did, he was in so much pain he would beg whoever was out there to administrate the next dose. (If he could beg coherently, of course - the feeding tube preventing him from forming words.) The drugs they were giving him was like lava through his veins - he doubted anyone else would be able to survive it. Maybe Thor.  
  
And then that got him thinking deliriously of his teammates, his supposed friends, for possibly the hundredth time since he had started to wake up. Dreams were blurring with memories and he didn’t know anymore what had happened and what he imagined. Did they lead him to the prison? Or did he get caught? Did he do something so heinous they handed him over to Ross? He was starting to hope they had. He would prefer this living hell were it in retribution for his past mistakes.   
  
There was activity around him. People were talking but he couldn’t make it out, and as his eyes refused to open, he couldn’t even take a guess as to what it was about. But there was definitely more activity than usual.  
  
He felt a drug flowing into him from one of the many IVs currently attached to him. Then he heard something that made him do his best to scream.  
  
“So long, monster.”  
  
  
  
When Tony arrived at the military base, he knew instantly something was wrong. Landing at the entrance of a top secret facility as Iron Man should have caused a lot more attention than it did. But nobody came out to greet him with guns or other friendly welcome packs. In fact, the place looked deserted. Tony lifted his face plate and walked inside.  
  
“JARVIS, scan the place for life.”  
  
“I am detecting only a faint sign of life within the facility, sir.”  
  
“Banner?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“Son of a bitch,” he spat. He walked over to the computers behind the desk and saw everything had been switched off. Everything was on lockdown.  
  
“Shit, shit...” he muttered. “JARVIS, get inside the mainframe and turn it all back on.”  
  
“Working on it already, sir.”  
  
There was the sound of a plane landing outside, and then the very distinct sound of Thor crashing to earth, lightning following his hammer before the skies cleared once more.  
  
“Stark, we can’t go in until Cap has the all-clear,” Natasha yelled as soon as she had run inside.   
  
“They’ve abandoned the place and Bruce is still in there! What does it matter now?”  
  
“For all we know, Ross has already cosied up to the President and it was him who gave the order to kill him. We’ve got to get this right,” she said.  
  
“Get this-- they are doing this so we can’t ever save him. Ross knows he’s lost so he’s abandoned ship and thrown Banner overboard.”  
  
“Do you want to risk that?” she asked seriously.  
  
“Do you?” Tony spat.   
  
Clint put his hands up and walked in between both of them. “All right. Far be it from me to go against protocol--”  
  
Natasha snorted.  
  
“--But Tony is right. We’ve come this far in proving he’s innocent and if Ross leaving and trying to kill Banner isn’t proof enough, then we’ve done a lousy job. So Tony, do the honours.”  
  
“With pleasure,” Tony said and held out his hands to blast a hole in the first of many heavy security doors leading to their friend.  
  
  
  
It took them an hour to infiltrate the prison. Steel walls more a foot thick had to be blasted or hammered through and every time they got into the next room, they saw another blocking their path.   
  
By the time they reached the prison itself, they were certain he would already be dead. And when they saw Bruce hanging from the ceiling, tubes running from various machines to his skin, looking so thin and lifeless, Tony feared the worst.  
  
“No...” was all he managed before he felt himself collapse against the wall.  
  
“Woah,” Steve said, rushing to help him stay standing. “Stark, Tony, look at me. Are you okay?”  
  
“I couldn’t... thought I could save him...” he murmured. He felt like somebody had put a sonic device to his face and paralysed him again. He hadn’t even considered his worst fear might come true. Not after everything they had done to prevent it.  
  
“Guys! He’s still alive!” Clint yelled out from across the room, looking over the various machines.  
  
Natasha and Thor got to work on removing the restraints so they could check over Bruce properly.   
  
“Watch out for those, don’t remove them,” Clint warned, pointing at the tubes that were buried into Bruce’s spine. Clint was probably the most medically trained out of all of them, but that was saying very little. He hadn’t studied medicine since his early training days at S.H.I.E.L.D - he was relying on his memory far more than what he was certain of.  
  
“Tony look at me,” Steve said sternly, giving him a shake so Tony’s eyes met his. “He’s alive but he’s not out of the woods yet. Now are you going to help him or not?”  
  
It took a second for Tony to register before he straightened up and walked over to where Thor was laying Bruce down.  
  
“For God’s sake, get that tube out of his throat,” Tony said angrily. “And that collar off of his neck. No wonder he’s barely breathing.”  
  
One by one, they removed the various tubes and IVs, being careful with each one in case it caused more damage. The iron collar looked like it had been fitted permanently, until Tony took a closer look and saw the tiny control panel at the back. With a very steady hand, he managed to get it to spring open. Immediately Bruce coughed roughly, his whole body spasming from the effort.   
  
“Come on, Bruce, wake up,” Tony said desperately, Bruce now motionless again. It was hard to tell if he was breathing. “Bruce, can you hear me?”  
  
Clint moved alongside Tony and reached across to check Bruce’s pulse.   
  
“It’s getting fainter.”  
  
“But... I thought friend Banner was unable to perish?” Thor asked.  
  
“That’s a very good question but I’m not about to test it,” Tony said. He kept his hand on Bruce’s chest, feeling his weak heartbeat and wondering why his own was beating so damn loudly. “Come on, Bruce. You’re going to have to do better than that.”  
  
Clint found an oxygen mask and they fixed it over Bruce’s mouth and nose, pumping in air slowly but steadily. It seemed like hours before Tony felt Bruce’s heart beat getting stronger and faster.  
  
“Bruce, can you hear us?” Clint asked. They all saw the faintest of nods before Bruce opened his eyes very slowly. It was only then Tony realised he hadn’t removed his hand from Bruce’s chest the entire time. “Listen, Bruce, they’ve pumped you full of a lot of shit. It’s trying to kill you but your body is fighting it. I don’t want to move you in case it causes more problems but you’re the doctor here so you’re going to have to help me. Should we move you?”  
  
Bruce looked at them all blankly before he passed out once more. Then Tony felt something - or an absence of something.  
  
“His heart has stopped,” he said. “Fuck, his heart has stopped. Someone... what do we do?”  
  
Clint pushed Tony to one side and he got to work pumping Bruce’s chest. It felt like minutes, hours even, before Clint stopped and he said he could feel a pulse again.  
  
Time passed, and Bruce came round once more. This time he looked in so much pain. He shut his eyes but Tony grabbed his hand frantically.  
  
“No you don’t, you’re going to stay awake this time,” he said angrily. Then he had an idea. “Bruce, can you change? Can you let the Hulk out?”  
  
Bruce shut his eyes again, but this time to blink. His brow furrowed as if in pain and then he shook his head slowly at Tony.  
  
“No? You can’t, or you won’t?”  
  
He was certain Bruce was trying to talk, but his eyes said it all.  _Both._  
  
“Well right now you’re about a sudden jolt from going under again and I did not just spend all this time finding you just to watch you die.” He was sure his mouth was on autopilot because he had no idea how he was managing coherent sentences when he was so scared. “So we need you to let him out before it’s too late. Either you let him out now when you’re willing to or he will come out involuntarily and probably tear us to shit, or far far worse, both you and him die for fucking nothing. So let him out now. Please. Please, Bruce.”  
  
Bruce closed his eyes and Tony thought he had passed out again, right before an enlarged arm shoved him to one side. Tony and Clint scrambled to their feet and the entire team backed up.  
  
“You sure this was a good idea?” Steve asked as Tony pulled his helmet down.  
  
“Best idea I’ve had all day,” he said before they started to run.   
  
Tony turned back and saw Hulk throwing the machines that had, only minutes before, been hooked up to Bruce. He then picked up the chains that had been used to restrain Bruce and pounded them into the ground, breaking solid steel into something that resembled breadcrumbs.  
  
He watched in utter astonishment.  _And you think the Other Guy doesn’t care about you._


	4. There Are Tears In My Eyes; Love Replaces Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is not out of the woods yet, and Tony is staying with him throughout.

_Three days later_  
  
The bed he was in was soft. That was about as much information as he could process at that moment. He slowly moved his arms, bunching up the plush duvet in his hands, wiggling his toes and assessing his surroundings without opening his eyes. He could hear the soft hum of an air conditioning unit and wondered where he was in the world. Somewhere hot, or somewhere that liked to keep the air temperature comfortable no matter what the weather was like outside.   
  
He rolled over slowly onto his side, careful so he didn’t open his eyes just to look up and get blinded. It turned out the room was dark from hiding the light outside. The blackout curtains bunched up at one end, so little slivers of light spilled across the spacious room. A hotel, maybe? Bruce couldn’t remember the last time he had been in a hotel. He had never cared for paying for luxury when all he was going to do was sleep. He could sleep out in the open in the elements if needs be, as he had learnt over the years.  
  
As Bruce rolled onto his other side, he felt a pain in his back of his hand.   
_  
“Can’t tell you how exciting it’s going to be to study your blood, Bruce. General Ross wants us to find ways to not just cure it, but stabilize it. You’re going to help create the greatest weapon in modern warfare.”_   
  
He immediately went to rip out the IV, sweat forming at his brow, his heart pounding. All he could think was, _Get it out, get it out, don’t let them have it, GET IT OUT..._  
  
“Hey,” a soft voice said.   
  
Bruce spun and saw Tony standing above him. He reached down and put his hand over Bruce’s, protecting the IV drip from his frantic attempts to remove it.  
  
“It’s just a saline drip. Nothing poisonous, I promise.”  
  
Bruce collapsed back against the bed. He was breathing heavily, and his chest was starting to hurt.  
  
“Easy there,” Tony said in the same calming voice. Bruce wouldn’t believe it was him, except he could see the reactor glowing faintly under his shirt. “I’m pretty sure you’re healing but you’re still weak. Do you want something to eat?”  
  
“I...” and the effort to make a sound hurt his throat so much, he began to cough loudly. Tony reached across to the bedside table and filled up a glass of water from a jug. He sat down on the bed next to Bruce and helped him drink. It was so natural, so easily done, like Tony was the doctor.   
  
“Right, no questions above yes or no,” he said kindly. “JARVIS, chicken soup?”  
  
“Simmering and ready to consume, sir.”  
  
“Bruce, stay right there,” he said, jumping from the bed and taking one last look at his patient before he left the room. Bruce laid back against the pillows, his hand on his heart and feeling the quickening beat. Everything was fuzzy at the edges. He could barely understand that Tony wasn’t another nightmare, or that he was somewhere other than that prison.   
  
By the time Tony had returned, Bruce had already fallen back to sleep. Tony left the soup on the bedside table and settled back on his chair right by the bed.   
  
  
  
He could form words the next time he awoke. He said the word, “Ow,” which Tony took to be a good sign.  
  
“You’ve got that right,” Tony said with a grin. Bruce just watched as Tony checked the drip, felt his wrist for a pulse, lifted his hair to feel his temperature, then went to carefully pull back his eyelid to check his pupils.  
  
Only Bruce pulled back, his hands up to guard his face.  
  
“Okay, no eye touching. I got it.”  
  
He said it with such humour, such calm, that Bruce didn’t know what to do. He expected pain. Yelling. The absence of discipline scared him more than if Tony had tied him down.   
  
“Sorry,” Bruce said, his voice raspy. He didn’t recognise it. Tony looked at him seriously. He then put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder.  
  
“Don’t apologise. Ever.” He took his hand off as quickly as he had placed it there and stood up straight. “Are we going to try food again?”  
  
“Please,” he said and Tony rushed out of the room and back in, possibly thinking Bruce would pass in that time again. He had a tray of food - soup, juice, porridge, fruit. Soft foods.   
  
“No ice cream?” Bruce asked, and regretted it as it caused his lungs to hack and his whole body to shake.  
  
“Ice cream later, when you’ve eaten something with some fucking nutrition. Here.” And Tony slide the tray onto the table before he helped Bruce to sit up. He noticed how much his limbs ached, how his shoulders and back popped from the effort. They were not used to such freedom. Not for a long time.  
  
The tray was placed on Bruce’s lap and he didn’t know where to start. He just knew he was hungry and this food wouldn’t be force-fed to him through a fucking tube. He picked up a spoon and went for the porridge first, sprinkling some of the pieces of fruit on top.  
  
“Honey?”  
  
“Yes, darling?” Bruce said, his mouth full.  
  
Tony grinned. “Do you want honey? Maple syrup?”  
  
“Whatever you’ve got going. Don’t care.”  
  
It felt so good to eat. To know texture and flavour and smell and letting it linger in his mouth before he swallowed. His breathing and throat eased as he ate the porridge, and only noticed Tony had ducked out when he returned with an even bigger bowl.  
  
“Just go easy. You don’t want to get sick.”  
  
“Never hurt me before; eating lots between days of starvation.”  
  
Tony didn’t respond, but he sat down on the edge of the bed again. Maybe it was a little too much to reveal? Bruce often made casual jokes at his own expense and usually people didn’t know what to say or do. It was self-pitying and it was unproductive.  
  
“That’s not happening anymore,” Tony finally declared.   
  
This time Bruce didn’t answer, keeping his mouth occupied as he started on the chicken soup. He hadn’t had it since he was a kid. It was warming and the smell took him back to somewhere friendly and calm but constantly on edge.  
  
“How long was I out?”  
  
“About three days. You woke up a few times but it didn’t last long. Fucking tease,” and he chuckled.  
  
Bruce tried not to look, but he could see in the corner of his eye that Tony looked dreadful. He didn’t know him well enough to know what his sleeping patterns were, but the last time he had seen him after the attack on New York, he looked similar. Antsy. Jumpy. Like he hadn’t slept in days and he wasn’t planning on it any time soon.   
  
“And the... Other Guy? Did he hurt you?”  
  
“Us? No. Not a scratch. He was too busy destroying everything that had hurt  _you_. He managed to cave in the entire facility though. Destroyed it from the inside-out. I couldn’t imagine anyone would try to dig it out.”  
  
Bruce wanted to say, “Good”, but that meant the evidence was gone. The research. The proof of what had taken place. Now nobody knew what Ross was planning.  
  
“The samples. My blood. They want to--”  
  
“We know. And we’ll get it back. Right now, you’re our priority.”  
  
Bruce finished a second bowl of soup before he decided he had had enough. Tony didn’t even ask; he just took the tray away and brought back a fresh glass of water.  
  
“Ice cream now?” he asked.  
  
Bruce shook his head. He crawled back under the sheets, that action alone exhausting him. His energy came in spurts, and at that moment he felt like it had all been drained out of him. He felt Tony pull another blanket over him and he relaxed inside the warm cocoon that had been created.   
  
“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Tony said and Bruce did not respond.  
  
  
  
When Bruce woke up again, Tony was asleep in the chair by the bed. It looked like he was knocked for six; as it he had tried to stay awake for so long and now he had lost the battle.  
  
Bruce had woken up with a dull pain in his bladder and he managed to climb out of bed - albeit on wobbly legs - and make his way to the bathroom across the hallway, taking the bag of saline on its pole with him. Someone had dressed him in light cotton pajamas that were both comfortable and cool, which he appreciated because he figured he had been sweating a lot during his bouts of unconsciousness. Washing his hands, he made a great effort not to look at himself in the mirror. He never liked looking at himself at the best of times - to have to look at himself after such an ordeal seemed like a very bad idea.  
  
As he left the bathroom, he felt a presence right behind him. He whirled around, feeling as if he could fight if he needed to, could run if he had to, even though he was weak he wasn’t that fucking weak--  
  
“Hello Bruce,” Steve said happily. He walked over to him and gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”  
  
His heart was pounding, and no doubt he looked wild in his terror that someone was about to try to kidnap him again. He took a few breaths in and managed a small smile.  
  
“Fine. Much better, thanks.”  
  
Steve looked worried, but he didn’t mention it. “You really scared us for a while there. I’m so glad you’re out of the woods.”  
  
“Yeah. Thanks, for saving me.”  
  
“It was all Stark’s idea. Every part of it. I’ve never seen someone so determined on a rescue mission.”  
  
“Then why did it take so long?”  
  
And he didn’t mean to say that, to say it so crudely, but it came out anyway, and now that he had, he had never wanted an answer more in his entire life.  
  
Steve looked shocked for a moment, before he sighed. “That’s a very fair question. Here,” and he gestured for Bruce to take a seat because he could see his knees were shaking from the effort. Steve sat down next to him.   
  
“First, we had to find you. Ross had been extremely clever and hidden his tracks well. Then, when we did find you, he had made sure any attempts would look like an attack on the military. So we had to do it carefully.”  
  
“As in a sneak attack?”  
  
“As in getting the president to issue an official order to release you.”  
  
Bruce opened his mouth, and then promptly closed it.   
  
“And Tony did it all. He got everyone in the country asking where you were and why more wasn’t being done to get a hero like the Hulk back.”  
  
“Hero?” he asked quietly.   
  
“That’s right, mister,” and that shook some of the shock out of Bruce because Steve couldn’t have sounded more like an old man. He looked over at Steve and smiled.  
  
“Uh, wow.”  
  
“Yep. Like I said, he wanted you back more than anything, and a little thing like the US military wasn’t going to stop him.”  
  
Bruce made an effort to get up and Steve took an arm to help him go back to the bedroom.  They opened the door to see Tony still asleep, his limbs tangled uncomfortably in the chair.   
  
“And in case you’re wondering, no. He hasn’t moved since we brought you here.”  
  
  
  
Tony woke up a few hours later and found Bruce sitting up, reading something on a tablet that had his full attention. He still looked weak and pale but a lot better than when they had brought him in. Thor had carried him, looking tiny in his huge arms, and the Asgardian was being careful to the point of terrified that he would hurt him. Tony was still barking orders and telling everyone to go get medical supplies and pillows and blankets and stop fucking crowding Bruce because he was still sick even if the Hulk had absorbed a lot of the poison.   
  
And when Thor placed Bruce on the bed, Tony just sat down next to him and held his hand and didn’t know what the fuck else to do. He just knew he had to stay there with him.  
  
“Good morning,” Bruce said suddenly without looking up.  
  
“It’s the evening,” Tony corrected him.  
  
“Not sure time is a concept for me just yet.”  
  
“How do you feel?” Tony got up from the chair and stretched, wanting to torch the fucking thing after spending so long living on it.  
  
“Better. Not great, but better.”  
  
“Are you hungry?”  
  
“Steve brought me a sandwich. Lots of sandwiches. And Clint made me meatballs. And Tash brought me some sort of broth. And Thor brought me something he swears heals warriors after battle.” He looked up at Tony. “It was a hoagie.”  
  
Tony snorted loudly. He sat down on the bed and Bruce instantly moved across so he could lay down next to him.  
  
“Would you like your bed back?”  
  
“This isn’t my bed. Far too small. Not enough mirrors on the ceiling.”  
  
Bruce didn’t dare ask if he was joking.   
  
“And you can keep it.”  
  
“Think I’ll have trouble moving it with me wherever I’m going.”  
  
Tony didn’t want to press him. Not now.  
  
Bruce put down the tablet and turned to Tony. He looked a little scared, a little lost.  
  
“Why did you stay with me?”  
  
“Making up for lost time, I lost a coin toss for Hulk-watch duty, you look cute when you sleep. Take your pick.”  
  
He should have figured he wouldn’t get a serious answer from him.  
  
“Well... thank you. For everything. For rescuing me, for the laptop and phone, for... convincing people I’m not a monster.”  
  
“Which you’re not.”  
  
“We both know that’s not true.”  
  
“Do we? Because I’m pretty certain I convinced the president, and it’s illegal to bullshit him.”  
  
“Well, thank you anyway.”  
  
“You’re welcome, big guy.”  
  
And like it was natural, like they did it all the time, Tony shuffled down the bed so he was at the perfect height to lean against Bruce’s shoulder, whilst Bruce picked up the tablet and started reading again. Neither could explain just how peaceful they felt, how much safety it created for them. Bruce couldn’t bear the idea of being left alone - not now, not when everything was still so fresh in his mind, whilst Tony could not bear the idea of leaving him. He couldn’t stand the idea of isolation, not after those caves, not after losing Yinsen, and figured Bruce would feel the same.  
  
Steve would come to check on them a few hours later to find them both asleep, resting up against the other.  
  
  
  
 _Two weeks later_  
  
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for the party?”  
  
“There’s a party?”  
  
“It’s Avengers Towers. There’s always a party.”  
  
“Naw, I’m kinda... allergic to parties. I usually end up hiding away so I don’t have to talk to anyone.”  Bruce shrugged his backpack off of his shoulders and checked the contents again. Laptop. Phone. Clothes. Cash. Food.  
  
Tony was watching from the doorway, his arms crossed, doing his very best to look casual and supportive of this fucking stupid choice.  
  
“Really? I could tone it down. Get rid of the DJ, the kegger, the Hulk girls...”  
  
“The  _what_?”  
  
“They’re like my Iron Girls but green and wearing skimpy purple bikinis.”  
  
And Bruce laughed, once again finding no reason to question whether he was being serious or not.   
  
“Just stay tonight. The guys would be pissed if you just slunk off without saying goodbye.”  
  
“That’s my best way of doing things,” Bruce said, zipping up the rucksack once more.  
  
“And it’s a selfish way. They put a lot of time and effort into making sure you got to ride off into the sunset.”  
  
Bruce looked up at Tony and then sighed. “Okay. But no... Hulk strippers or whatever.”  
  
“You’re so demeaning to women, Bruce. I said Hulk girls. Dancers. And very talented ones at that.”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
  
Whatever Bruce had thought the gathering was going to look like, he was completely taken off guard by what actually occurred. There was a small gathering of people there - as small as Tony could manage. They were the Avengers, of course, Director Fury, Agent Hill, Pepper Potts, Rhodey, Professor Selvig, a band of Asgardian warriors and various S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that looked like they should be patrolling the place instead of eating the finger food.  
  
It was a casual affair - no loud music, no dance hall, and it took place in the now remodelled penthouse of Tony’s building. And people did not swarm Bruce or ignore him like he was a freak. They interacted and let him speak to whomever he wanted, as if Tony had told them his friend was an introvert, as well as having managed to escape hell.  
  
And then the funniest, strangest thing happened. They were all gathered inside and Tony did a speech. Which involved a video presentation.  
  
“See the problem is,” Tony continued, after they all raised their glasses to Bruce, “That Bruce doesn’t get to see what he’s done. Unless someone tells him or he watches the news - unlikely - he doesn’t even know that he’s been a hero. And I know, Bruce, you’ll say it’s the Other Guy and you’re not the hero here, but that’s bullshit. If you get to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders for the Hulk’s mistakes, then we’re going to be damn sure you carry his successes too.”  
  
Bruce wanted very much to run and hide when the lights dimmed and the film started, but Steve was standing right beside him and he put his hand gently on his shoulder. Bastard.  
  
And then Bruce started to watch the footage. Mostly amateur shots taken by the public and news cameras dodging the carnage to get the scoop. He saw the Hulk, the mass of muscle and energy and power soaring upwards like he was fuelled by rocket power, and then swat down a Chitauri flying vehicle like it was a play toy. He saw him crash through one of the top floors of an office building to land on one of those flying monsters and start destroying everything he saw. He saw no fear in his eyes, only determination, to get rid of this menace. And he remembered thinking, just as he was changing, just after revealing his secret to Steve, that he wanted him, both of them, to prove themselves. To be a hero.  
  
“Just wait ‘till you see it, Bruce,” Steve said softly. “Can’t believe you’ve never seen this before.”  
  
And just then, he saw a white object hurtling towards the very heart of the city, the glint of red and gold underneath it showing Tony trying to direct it upwards, right towards the portal where the endless invasion kept on coming. Then the footage changed and it was looking straight at the portal and it was closing, and Bruce felt his heart squeeze like someone had put a vice in it. Because he couldn’t see Tony anywhere and he knew where the nuc had been heading.  
  
“He’s falling!” the person taking the footage yelled and struggled to keep in focus as Iron Man, the impossibly impenetrable hero, was hurtling to earth without a sign of stopping.   
  
The footage was from an office building now, following Tony as he kept on falling, when there was an explosion of glass and metal right below as something huge and green slammed into the building opposite, his arms full and his entire body curling around his package to protect it. Bruce watched Hulk drop to the ground and, as gently as he could, push Tony off of him, the group gathering around him.  
  
“I always wondered why you didn’t think you were a hero,” Steve said to Bruce. “Now do you believe us?”  
  
“So I hope you will raise your glasses again, and join me as I thank the Hulk for not just saving my ass, but the entire world in his brave efforts in battle.”  
  
The echoes of “To Bruce! To Hulk!” rang in Bruce’s ears, and after the applause had finished, he headed straight for the elevators, thinking if he had to give a speech he might just jump off the top of the tower. He went down to his floor, found his room and just looked at the packed rucksack on his bed. Waiting for him. He wanted to just pick it up and run.  
  
“Bruce?”  
  
Bruce turned around suddenly, the hand on his shoulder gentle but still unwelcome.  
  
“Was it too much? I thought I had toned it down enough. I didn’t even include the bit where you pummeled a living God into my floor...”  
  
“No, sorry,” Bruce said, and felt his face burning from his impulsive need to run away from attention. “It’s great. All of it. I just can’t... I’m no good at this. The people, the speeches, the,” he chuckled weakly, “letter from the President saying I’m his favourite superhero.”  
  
“The President is a very proud geek, I’ll give him that.”  
  
“But I can’t deal with it. It’s not me.”  
  
“I promise you, it’s just for tonight. Tomorrow you can go back to being a hermit or a lone wolf or whatever you call yourself. Just please don’t leave right now.”  
  
And Bruce tried to say something, but at that moment, he felt so safe with Tony by him, he couldn’t refuse. He nodded quickly, eyes on the floor.  
  
“Great.”  
  
“But just... give me a minute, please? Before we go back?”  
  
Tony waited for Bruce to sit down on the bed before he joined him. Tony felt like his hands were unable to keep still, he just wanted to touch Bruce and let him know everything, like it was the perfect time when Bruce looked like he was in the middle of a mental breakdown.  
  
So it made his eyes widen as he felt Bruce put his arm around Tony’s shoulders. He didn’t hold back and he grabbed Bruce into a hug.  
  
“I hate what they’ve done to me,” Bruce said angrily. “I can’t be alone, I can’t be in crowds, I think I want to run and I don’t have a fucking clue where to go because they’ll find me again--”  
  
“I know, I know,” Tony murmured.  
  
“I want them out of my head. They... they just keep appearing and reminding of how fucking weak I am... and...”  
  
“But you’re not weak. Your survived that place. You think I don’t feel the same sometimes? I still think of that fucking cave and how they tortured me to give them what they wanted. We both got out of it.”  
  
“You did it yourself...”  
  
“No, I had a friend to help me, who saved my life twice, and they fucking butchered him and you think I won’t forget that in a hurry? Besides, if they had managed to make the perfect poison to kill you, I guarantee you wouldn’t have needed persuading to get your secret weapon out.”  
  
Bruce was crying. Tony could feel his t-shirt by his shoulder getting wet, so he just kept talking.  
  
“So what if you needed help? You think some nutjob wouldn’t try to grab Steve so they can clone him to make an army? What about Thor? Asgardian blood would probably jack up any idiot willing to try it out. And as for Clint and Tasha, they’ve got so many enemies I think they were about to spar off with one of the agents upstairs over ‘unfinished business’, whatever the fuck that means. People like us need saving from time to time. It comes with the job. What if I had been taken?”  
  
There was a pause, and Tony was about to answer his own question, when Bruce said quietly:  
  
“I’d unleash the Hulk on everyone that stood in my way.”  
  
“There you go!” And Tony thought that deserved a kiss on Bruce’s temple.   
  
And then something even stranger happened. Bruce turned slowly to Tony, and moved forward in what Tony thought could be anything but a kiss, until he kissed him.   
  
It was careful, delicate and it seemed to Tony like Bruce was terrified to his very core for doing it, but sensing that, Tony knew he had to reciprocate. He put his hand in Bruce’s hair at the back of his head, tangling his fingers in his curls and kissing him back with the same delicacy. Bruce moaned against his mouth and carefully, slowly, they both opened their mouths to explore with tongues, tasting one-another. Their hands moved, feeling out where to best place them, finding out how each other felt to touch. It was long and slow-paced but it perfect for both of them.  
  
They pulled away eventually and Bruce looked ready to apologise, like he always fucking did with everything, but Tony spoke first.  
  
“Jesus, Banner, you hold your cards close. I thought my convincing the President to get you back was a big enough hint, but you? I had no idea.”  
  
He wanted to respond honestly. To say he had had a schoolboy crush on Tony since they day they met, and that developed into something much deeper, much more real, when he saw Tony had stayed by his side the entire time he was recovering. But he didn’t have the ability, at that moment, to describe it fully.   
  
So instead Bruce shrugged. “I saved you from falling to earth, didn’t I?”  
  
They both sat back, albeit with Tony’s hand firmly on Bruce’s as Bruce wiped his eyes and took a few breaths.  
  
“Please don’t leave tomorrow,” Tony blurted out, because to hell with him if he was going to try to run away after that.  
  
“I won’t. But please don’t throw me any more parties, no matter how low key you think they are.”  
  
“Deal. Ready to go back out there?”  
  
“Only if you keep hold of me.”


End file.
